Angels Fall First
by Lhinneill
Summary: Injured and trapped on a hostile planet, it's all they can do to survive as their world is turned upside down by a planet completely unlike anything they've ever seen before. SamJack
1. A Headline of Tragedy

**Title:** Angels Fall First  
**Author:** Lhinneill, aka Stargatefangurl  
**Summary:** Injured and trapped on a hostile planet, it's all they can do to survive. They never give up hope that rescue is coming, but will it arrive in time?  
**Genre:** Action/Adventure/General/Hurt/Comfort/Angst/Friendship  
**Characters/Pairing: **Team, Sam/Jack (more friendship than UST)  
**Season:** Season 7-ish.  
**A/N:** I'm honestly rather nervous about this one. It's the first long project I've started on in...a very long time, and it's also not the kind of story I'd usually write. Not to mention the fact that this basic plot has been used a LOT. But I've been avoiding using any ideas that are popular for so long, I've pretty much been defeating myself. So, despite my doubts, here it is. I'd appreciate any and all feedback (constructive crit is always good).

The title comes from a Nightwish song, if you were wondering.

* * *

Bullets bit the ground at Sam's feet as she skidded to a stop and dropped to one knee, bringing her P90 around to return fire. Their attackers scattered among the rocks, making themselves as difficult a target as possible. Sam grit her teeth and held her ground.

Over the sound of gunfire—and Teal'c's staff weapon—she could hear the chevrons locking as Daniel dialed home. They only had to cover him long enough to dial and sent the IDC.

But as more men scrambled in to provide backup, Sam knew they were almost out of time.

Off to her left, she could hear the colonel shouting for Daniel to hurry up. Daniel shouted back, and then the wormhole engaged behind Sam.

"Teal'c, Daniel, go! We've got your backs!" Colonel O'Neill ordered as he edged closer to Sam. Together they returned fire, slowly backing towards the active Stargate. At first they had aimed to frighten the people, but when it became clear that that tactic would do no good, they shot to kill.

"Carter, make for the 'gate!"

She started to turn, one foot on the bottom step of the dais, when something punched her shoulder. She jerked and went down, sprawling across the steps. Bullets sent a spray of rock into her face as near-misses smacked into the stone steps. She rolled, grinding her teeth against pain stabbing out from her right shoulder.

The aliens approached cautiously, several falling as Colonel O'Neill's shots found their mark. And then a pair of green-clad legs blocked her view of their attackers as the colonel stepped between them and her, reaching to catch her vest and drag her backwards with him.

She didn't bother telling him to go; she knew he wouldn't leave one of his team behind, no matter what that might mean for his own safety. She could only grit her teeth against the pain and let him drag her towards the wormhole.

And they almost made it.

Steps away from the event horizon that would have carried them safely back to the SGC, one of the bullets found its target. The colonel's hand slipped from her vest and he toppled out of her view. For a moment, she thought he might have fallen back into the wormhole, but a sudden weight across her legs got rid of that hope.

The wormhole disengaged with a whoosh.

Sam let her head fall back to the stone beneath her as the men swarmed over the dais, wrenching her weapons away. As they jerked her to her feet and bound her wrists, she glanced over her shoulder at the inactive 'gate.

_At least they made it through._

* * *

Daniel emerged from the wormhole at a run, stumbling down the metal ramp. Teal'c, emerging a second behind Daniel, caught the archeologist's arm before he fell and helped him to the base of the ramp. Both teammates turned and watched the shimmering event horizon.

Any moment now, Jack and Sam would burst through. Jack would shout for them to shut the iris, and then they'd all hit the showers and get ready for a long debriefing.

Daniel ran a hand across his face, righting his skewed glasses.

A bullet pinged off the railing along the ramp. Daniel ducked, instinctively throwing his arms over his head as more bullets shot from the event horizon.

"Dr. Jackson, Teal'c!"

"We've got to give them more time, General!" Daniel shouted.

An SF went down with a cry as one of the stray bullets found him. The other soldiers scattered, dropping into defensive positions along the ramp. Teal'c jerked Daniel down, his own body forming a shield between Daniel and the Stargate.

And then the 'gate shut off.

Daniel stared at it, disbelieving. "No. They were right there…they were right behind us, Teal'c."

The Jaffa stood slowly, his eyes locked on the silent Stargate.

"They were…they should have made it through."

"What the hell happened out there?" General Hammond asked as he entered the 'gate room, glancing around at the smoking equipment and the wounded man on the floor. Sergeant Harriman's voice rang out over the intercom as he called for a medical team.

"We were attacked, General. But we've got to go back. We…we can't just leave them."

"I'm aware of that, Dr. Jackson," the general answered, turning to look up at Harriman. "Notify Colonel Reynolds that he and his team are to be ready to 'gate out in half an hour."

"I will accompany them, GeneralHammond."

"Me too, General."

General Hammond nodded. "I would have expected nothing less. Get yourselves cleaned up and join me in the briefing room in twenty minutes."

* * *

She woke to the stench of sweat and animal manure, and to the throbbing pain of a bullet wound in her shoulder. She bit back a moan as she tried to roll off her side, only to discover her arms were still bound. This time she didn't manage to bite back the cry of pain.

"Looks like this one's awake," a voice grunted from the opposite side of the room—Sam was beginning to suspect they were in a barn, due to the smell and the bed of prickly hay beneath her.

Footsteps crackled on the hay and another voice answered, "Better get this over with, then."

Sam tensed. Her feet were still free, but with her hands bound and her shoulder wounded, there wasn't much she could do. Especially not while she was on her stomach.

"Just hold still, girl," rasped the first voice. By the sound of it, this man was older than the second. "We're not gonna hurt you."

"Not too much, anyway. If you hold still," the second chimed in.

Sam heard a thump and a sharp exhalation. "Shut up, Corden. It's bad enough we got this job; no need in you making it worse."

Sam's breath caught in her throat. She would have to act quick, but if she could stun them long enough for her to get on her feet, she could slip out and make for the 'gate. _No, not the 'gate. I have to find Colonel O'Neill first. Then we'll both make for the 'gate._

And then came the sinking realization that, along with the rest of the gear, the men had taken her GDO.

_Okay, plan B. I need to think._

The two stepped up to either side of her and crouched, gripping her arms tightly as they pulled the knots out of the rough rope around her wrists. Sam tensed, readying herself for a struggle. But even as she did, she realized she'd never make it. Even if she had been in prime condition, they still would have had the advantage.

_Damn it._

One of the men slipped a heavy leather collar around her neck, fastening it somehow in the back. The other kept a firm grip on her wrists until the first was done, and then he took her right arm and pinned it to the floor.

"Sorry, lady, this might sting a bit."

If she'd had a moment to prepare herself, she might have managed to strangle her scream, but the searing pain in her arm caught her off guard. The men held her still as she struggled, until pain and exhaustion set in and she went limp.

"I hate this part," muttered the younger man.

"Yeah," agreed the first. "Tie her again, then bring her on out. I'll go get the others ready for transport."

Sam didn't fight as he tied her again, noticeably gentler than the first time. Then he helped her to her feet and supported her as he walked her outside. There she got her second look at the local's primitive version of automobiles. Two of them set in the barnyard, trailers in tow. Both of them were loaded with people, tied and marked by the same collar that now rubbed at Sam's throat.

One of the men jumped out of the front of a vehicle. "Have any trouble with her?"

"No, sir," Corden answered. "She squirmed a bit when we branded her, but that's to be expected."

The man frowned. "Pity. I was hoping she'd have more spirit than that." He waved a dismissive hand and turned away. "Put her with the others. I have a feeling your people will be in for some more visitors soon. I want our merchandise out of here before then."

"Wait," Corden called, his grip on Sam's arm tightening. "_Visitors_?We didn't bargain for a war."

The other man didn't turn. "So figure out what you're going to tell them. Whatever it is, it's not my business. You've got your money, and you should be happy enough with that."

For a moment, Sam though Corden wasn't going to let go of her arm. But then he sighed heavily and led her to one of the trailers. He helped her in and walked off. She watched him go, and then looked down to see who he'd sat her by. Colonel O'Neill's pale face stared back.

* * *

It didn't take much of a tracker to see what had taken place after Daniel and Teal'c had last seen their teammates. Blood stains on the dais showed where the two had fallen; tire tracks and rub marks on the stone told Daniel they'd put up some kind of ramp and driven through the Stargate. And if the locals' word could be trusted, they had taken Sam and Jack with them.

"The winter was long and we lost a lot of our supplies," an older man was explaining. "Boridan offered us the supplies we needed, in exchange for using our lands as a…"

Another man—who had identified himself as Corden—stepped up. He hadn't left the older man's side since Daniel and Teal'c had arrived with SG-3 in tow.

"They needed someplace neutral to store their…_merchandise_," he explained, a strange look passing over his face at the last word. "Until they were ready to take 'em home."

Daniel raised his brows, glancing at Teal'c. "Merchandise? Okay..."

Teal'c took a step closer to Corden. Like Colonel Reynolds and his team, Teal'c had yet to lower his weapon. The people had been completely peaceful this time around, but they weren't going to take any chances.

"What is this _merchandise_ you speak of?" the Jaffa asked.

The man swallowed. "People. I guess."

"They're…wait—people?" Daniel blinked.

Teal'c took another step closer to the man. "Slave traders."

Corden swallowed; Daniel could almost see beads of sweat forming on the man's forehead. "We don't have anything against your people, understand that." He glanced from Teal'c to Daniel. "You do understand that…?"

"From what I can tell, you've given us no reason to," Colonel Reynolds stepped forward, hands pointedly tapping his P90. "Even if you didn't personally attack our people, you did willingly go along with it. That's a hostile act right there."

"Indeed," Teal'c concurred.

Corden wet his lips and shot a look back at the other man. "I'm sorry—we're…we're all real sorry. But it was either help them, or die. We'd all have starved without those supplies."

"Or they'd have killed us themselves," the older man added. "If we hadn't allowed them to use our world… Well, they would have taken it anyway. And we would've gotten nothing out of it."

"So you pad your own pockets with a little of the booty, huh?" Colonel Reynolds shot back. "What's a little human slave trade hurt? As long as it's not your asses in the fire, then it's all right. Who's to say they won't come back and harvest some of your own people?"

"Colonel," Daniel interrupted. "I think we've done about as much as we can here. Sam and Jack are gone and there's nothing we can do here to bring them back."

"Maybe…" Corden stepped forward, holding a hand out towards Teal'c. "Maybe there is…something."

Teal'c arched a brow.

"I can give you their address—well, part of it. I only saw the first four symbols."

"Corden!" the older man hissed.

"They aren't coming back, Gharis. They'll never know. But even if they do…at least we've done…something."

Daniel nodded. "Thank you."

Four symbols wasn't much to go on, but it was a start. A very _small _start, albeit. Daniel knew all too well how difficult it was to determine a planet from only a partial address, but at least now they had somewhere to start.

_We're coming, guys. I promise, we'll get you back._


	2. Unexpected

A/N: Sorry this took so long. I had about 900 words written on another version, which of course took me like a week to do, but it just wasn't working. I rewrote it all today, and like it a lot better now. Thanks for taking the time to review the last chapter. I've never gotten that much of a response from anything I've written... Glad you're enjoying it so far. )

* * *

The last thing Sam expected to hear when she woke from a drugged sleep was the cheery voices of birds and the gentle lowing of what sounded a lot like cattle. Considering that the last thing she remembered was being branded and drug off by some very rude men…she had imagined waking to considerably worse conditions.

She forced her eyes open and blinked to clear her vision. Instead of a cage or bars, she saw dark wood slats, which made up both the simple walls and the ceiling. The room was small and sparsely furnished; there was the bed Sam occupied, and she saw a rickety-looking chest just to the left. The single window was framed by off-white curtains and had been propped open to allow the fresh breeze to waft in.

Sam pushed herself up with a pained grunt and sucked in a lungful of air. Grimacing at the potent smell of animal manure, she decided that perhaps _fresh _wasn't quite the right description of the air quality. Sam had never had much experience with country life, but this place—what she had seen of it so far, anyway—looked and _smelled _like your typical country home.

That left one question—how the hell had she gotten here? Before they had been taken through the Stargate, all of the prisoners had been drugged. Sam assumed it was meant to ensure none of them knew the address to the world. Or even where the Stargate on this planet was located, Sam thought with a frown. Even if she could get out of here, she had no idea where to go.

She rolled stiffly out of the narrow bed, grimacing as it moaned and squeaked with every move she made. Even the obnoxiously loud mooing from outside couldn't have covered that much noise.

Sam held her breath and waited, but it didn't seem as if there was anyone around to hear her. Had they went to the trouble of capturing her and the colonel just to leave her here? She doubted it. It had to be a trap.

The door groaned as she pushed it open and a floorboard beneath her bare foot let out its own protest. Sam hissed a curse and slid into the main room. At this rate, the whole farm was going to know exactly where she was.

The front door swung open. Sam instinctively reached for the narrow doorway she had just stepped through, ready to vanish back into the little room.

A woman walked through the door, her arms laden with an overflowing tub of what looked like grass. She made it to the table before she saw Sam. "Oh!" She dropped the tub onto the table and wiped a dirty hand over her face. "Dear, I didn't expect you to be awake so soon. You should be asleep."

"Where am I?" Sam's eyes scanned the room for a weapon, more out of trained habit than a conscious decision.

"My home," the woman answered smoothly, as if she was accustomed to the question. "And your home as well…until you recover." She lowered her eyes and reached for the tub of grass. "Your friend is in that room there," she pointed to a closed door just down from the one Sam had been in. "When you're both well enough, we have a place for you in the barn. Maybe not what you're used to, but it's warm and it's dry. You'll be fine there."

Sam lifted her right arm and stared at the mark. It was real, she hadn't imagined everything. The pain in her shoulder was enough to prove that.

"I'm sorry. You don't deserve this."

Sam looked up, blinking. "What?"

The woman sighed and, after wiping her hands on a towel, walked over to take Sam's hand. Her fingers brushed over the mark. "There was a time when this symbol was forbidden. But after Lord Maroxi passed from this life, it came back. It's a long story, and one I'm sure you're not interested in now, but it is why you're here."

Sam's frown deepened. "On a farm."

The woman blinked. "No, no." She let go of Sam's hand and turned back to the grass. "That's my brother's fault. He tends to be…_overzealous_ in his capture of new slaves. I often end up with the worst of them. He needs my skills to get them back on their feet so he can use them. So here you are."

"Well that explains a lot."

The woman snorted. "This isn't quite what you expected to wake up to, hmm?"

Sam smiled wryly. "Not exactly."

"I can imagine." The woman collected water from a leaky barrel near the door and doused the grass. She motioned to a stool beside the table. "Please, have a seat. While you're up, I need to check your wound."

Sam hesitated a moment, but did as the woman instructed. She didn't sense any deceit or hidden motives in the woman's words or actions so far, though she was far from comfortable with the arrangement. At least this "recovery time" would give both her and the colonel time to plan an escape.

"By the way, I believe I've neglected to introduce myself," the woman said as she leaned over Sam's shoulder and set to work unwrapping the bandages. "I'm Serah."

Sam responded with the usual, almost automatic, introductory line.

"Mmm, long name."

Sam smiled at the typical response. "You can call me Sam."

Serah nodded. "The man they brought in with you…is he your mate?"

"Uh, he's my superior officer—my commander," Sam coughed. "We have a strictly…professional relationship."

"I see."

Sam sighed. Serah continued her work, _hmm_ing occasionally as she gently probed the wound. Sam grit her teeth and tried to think of anything but the pain.

"Most of the people who come through my home aren't as good at this as you are," Serah commented as she reached for the grass.

"I've had a lot of practice," Sam answered.

Serah nodded again as she ground the plant in a mortar. Sam frowned as she watched, trying not to think of what effect the grass might have if…

Serah gave the grass a few last pokes with the pestle and then smeared her fingers through it. "This may hurt," she warned, then carefully rubbed the plant over Sam's wound.

Sam ground her teeth. Suddenly she wished for the wonderful needles and painkillers of Janet's infirmary.

"That should help stem the infection," Serah said confidently.

Sam forced a smile. "Great."

"Does it hurt badly?"

_Dumb question. _"It does sting a bit."

"I thought it might," Serah smiled, patting Sam's uninjured shoulder gently. She moved to the other side of the kitchen, if you could call it that. She reached for a blackened pot on the counter and poured a milky brown liquid into a cup. "It's a little cold now, but the rosim should numb the pain."

Sam accepted the cracked cup with a nod, warily eyeing the liquid and giving it a sniff. "Er, thanks."

"Drink it slowly. You don't seem like you're used to our medicine."

Sam smiled a little sheepishly. "Not really. My planet has a few different medical techniques."

"I would love to hear more about it," Serah said, settling onto a stool across the table, her fingers wrapped around her own cup of rosim. "Many of the people I care for have shared stories of their homeworlds in their time with us. It's…it is one of the few things I look forward to."

Sam lowered her head, rubbing a finger over the distinct crack in the cup. Serah couldn't have been much more than twenty, but her eyes looked like they belonged to a much older woman. Sam took another drink of the rosim, trying and no doubt failing to hide a wince at the taste. "I'm sorry to ask you this, Serah, but… Is there any way we can get out of here?"

Serah jerked back. The cup slipped from her fingers and toppled to the floor, shattering. "No!" she hissed. "No, don't ever—"

The front door burst open. Sam tossed her own cup aside and jumped to her feet. Before she had time to really think about what she was doing, the stool was in her hands, held out between herself and the door.

Two pairs of small, frightened eyes stared back.

"…mom—mommy?"

Serah stepped between Sam and the two children, her own eyes wide.

Sam swallowed, lowering the stool. "I'm sorry. I expected… I'm sorry."

The two children clustered around Serah's legs, curiosity warring with fear and shyness as they peered around the woman's skirt. Serah reached to place her hands on their heads. "These are my children." She met Sam's gaze.

Sam nodded slowly. "I think I understand."

"I hope for their sake that you do."

It was the first time Sam had heard anything other than a caring, concerned tone from the woman, but she suspected that if she ever did anything that would endanger the children's lives, she would get more than a stern warning. She had never forgotten what had happened when Nirrti had threatened Cassandra's life; she recognized that same look in Serah's eyes now that she had seen in Janet's then.

"Your own brother…" For all the differences Sam and Mark might have had over the years, Sam knew without a doubt that he would never do anything that would put her life in danger. But here, Serah's brother not only threatened her, but also his own niece and nephew. All for…what? Money?

"Boridan is a cruel man, Sam. But I believe you knew that already."

Sam grimaced. "Yeah, I kind of got that impression last time we met."

"Then you understand?"

"Yeah," Sam sighed. "Yeah, I do."

"Good. Now, you should get some rest."

Sam nodded. "I'd like to see Colonel O'Neill first, though."

The gentle voice had returned now, and the children's curiosity had won out. They stood in front of their mother now, the little girl's fingers jabbed into her mouth. Serah brushed her hand over her daughter's scraggly hair. "Of course. He was in worse condition than you, though, so he should still be sleeping."

"I know. I'll only take a minute," Sam promised. "Thank you."

Serah dipped her head. "Of course."

Sam rubbed her hand over her right arm, wincing as she turned her back on Serah and her children. The rosim had seemed to be working before she jarred her wound with the whole stool attack. _I'm too jumpy. I need to calm down and think before I do something stupid._

She pushed opened the bedroom door and leaned her head in. It was slightly larger than Sam's room, with space for a chair in addition to the bed and chest. Sam assumed it belonged to Serah and her husband. Sam took another step inside and looked around. Rumpled covers hung off the bed—the _empty _bed.

"Crap."


	3. Getaway

A/N: So sorry for the long delay in this chapter, guys! Real life swamped me, and then I was working on my novel during November for Nanowrimo. But I'm back! Hopefully this'll be worth the wait. Thanks for reading. :)

* * *

It had begun to rain not long after Serah's husband, Roran, had stowed Sam in the dank cellar. Serah had left a blanket for her, but Sam's rear was cold on the hard dirt and her muscles complained from having to sit in such a cramped space. She sat up against a lumpy sack of something that smelled a lot like potatoes. Every now and then, a rustle or a soft squeak told her she wasn't the only one spending the night in the cellar. The other occupants were likely a good deal happier about the arrangement than Sam was, however.

_Where are you Colonel?_ Sam sighed and closed her eyes. Serah and Roran, along with a couple of the nearby neighbors, had gone off to search for the missing colonel as soon as they had realized he was gone. Sam had no idea what had prompted him to take off like that, especially when it meant leaving her behind.

She sighed once more and shifted to get into a more comfortable position. Her makeshift backrest did nothing to ease the pain in her shoulder and the medicine Serah had given her earlier clearly had already worn off. _It's going to be a long night._

The cellar door rattled. Sam squinted up at it, frowning. It rattled again, and she sat up, pulling the blanet tighter around her shoulders as she moved. Was it just the wind playing tricks with her, or was someone really up there?

The door cracked open, allowing in a sudden rush of muddy water. Small fingers gripped the wooden trim on the door and a dirty face appeared, peering curiously down at her. "Hey, you. C'mon. We gotta hurry. Momma's comin' back soon, and when she gets here... Oooh, she's not gonna be so happy."

Sam stared at the boy. _Serah's son...?_

The boy gave an impatient snort and jiggled the lantern he held in his free hand. "Well? I don't think he's gonna wait much more."

"Okay," Sam said. "I'm coming."

Grunting a little with the effort of getting her stiff muscles to cooperate, Sam got to her feet. The little boy held out his hand. When Sam hesitated, he waggled his fingers. "Grab on, I'll help ya up."

Sam wrapped her fingers around the boy's hand and reluctantly allowed him to tug her up. Mostly all he managed to do was knock her off balance as she clambered up the rickety ladder, but he seemed to enjoy thinking he was helping. As soon as she was up, he dropped to his rear in the mud and wiped a hand over his smudged face.

"Whew, you smell like 'taters."

Sam grimaced. "Uh, thanks."

The boy pushed himself to his feet and did a quick check of the area, his eyes wide. "We'd better go."

"Where exactly are we going?"

The boy shrugged his shoulders and held out his hand to Sam again. "I'll show you."

Sam pushed herself to her feet and took his hand. The boy took off at a quick trot, holding tight to Sam's hand as he tugged her towards the dark outline of the large barn. His head bobbed back and forth, dark eyes diligently scanning all around them. They splashed through the puddles to the barn door, which was cracked open several inches. The boy shoved it open, pulling Sam in after him.

The barn was warm and dry and smelled of old hay and cow manure. Sam wrinkled her nose, but was glad to be out of the rain. As her eyes adjusted to the dim yellow light from the lantern, she looked around the barn. There were six stalls, each with a large cow occupying the space. The cows turned their heads to look at Sam, but didn't stay interested for long, obviously dismissing her as harmless.

The boy tugged at her hand. "Back here."

Sam frowned and let him lead her on, straight past the cows in their stalls to the far end of the barn. The boy sat the lantern on the floor and dropped to his knees beside a dark pile of hay-covered blankets. Sam let her gaze wander the barn as he dug around in the hay. The loft above was loaded with hay bales and could have easily hidden someone.

"Took your time, Carter."

Sam jumped, jerking her head around. The boy had pulled the blankets back to reveal Colonel O'Neill. A little girl clambored over the rail in the neighboring stall and flashed Sam a grin, showing off her missing tooth. "We kidnapped him!"

"We've been planning it for weeks," the boy announced proudly. "Sis and I decided we'd help whoever got caught next get free."

"Gar's even got horses and everything!"

Sam looked from Gar to his sister, then at Colonel O'Neill. "They've had you out here the whole time?"

He lifted one shoulder in a feeble shrug. "Pretty much."

"Papa almost caught us, but we hid real good," Sis whispered. "An' then we got him out here. We were gonna put him in the loft, but he's real heavy and we couldn't lift him."

The colonel muttered something under his breath and Sam hid a smile.

Gar pulled out a wrapped package and held it out for Sam to take. "I got horses out back. You got to leave now, if you're gonna. Take off east; the horses know the way. They'll take you back to Gran, and she'll make sure you're taken care of from there."

The frown lines in Sam's forehead deepened as she took the package from Gar. The children seemed perfectly innocent, but what if it was a trap? Or, even worse--what would happen once Boridan discovered the two had escaped? Serah made it clear that her brother would not hesitate to harm the kids. SG-1 was not in the habit of endangering others just to make sure they themselves were safe.

"Come on!" Gar urged. "Just go on. We've got everything handled."

Sam dropped to her knees beside him. "What about your uncle?"

Gar placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a pat. "Aw, he's nothin'. Don't worry. I've got a plan for that too." He winked.

Sis produced their jackets from the feed trough and brushed the damp chunks of hay off of them. "You'll prob'ly want these. It's gonna get chillin' tonight."

Sam let the girl help her into the jacket, ignoring the cow drool on the sleeve, and then helped the colonel get on his feet. Gar led the way with the lantern in hand. Sis pushed the narrow back door open and Sam led Colonel O'Neill through. The horses stood with their heads down a few feet from the rear of the barn.

Roran and two of his neighbors stood between the horses and Sam's little group.

"Gar, Sis," he snapped gruffly. "Get yourselves in the house."

Sis whimpered, but the two kids didn't move. Gar pressed his lips firmly together, his little fist gripping the lantern handle even tighter. "Papa, you can't let him take these guys too."

"Gar!" Roran bit out his son's name and pointed his finger at the family's home. "I said get in the house. I'll deal with your punishment later. These two are going straight to Boridan, and I won't hear any more of it."

The colonel pulled away from Sam and placed himself between the kids and their father. "Leave them out of this."

Roran shifted his angry gaze to Colonel O'Neill. "You're just full of trouble, aren't you? Well, I won't let you ruin my family. I've already sent word to Boridan. He'll be here in the morning to get both of you. If we're lucky, that'll satisfy him and he will leave my family in peace."

"You'll never have peace as long as you let him run over you," Sam spoke up.

Roran grit his teeth and lifted the shovel in his hand to point at her. "What do you know, hm? This isn't your home, so don't even think you know what's right for my family. I'll take care of mine, and that doesn't include you. You're going to Boridan, and that's final. Both of you can spend the night in the cellar, and then I'm through with you."

Gar pushed between Sam and the colonel and hefted the lantern high. "You can't do that, Papa!"

Roren took a step forward. "Get to the house, boy! I told you once, and--"

Gar threw the lantern. It crashed into the rear door of the barn, the fuel streaking down the door and dousing the hay at the bottom. The flames roared up in an instant. Gar and Sis grabbed Sam and the colonel's hands and tugged them along behind as they made a dash for the horses. One of the neighbors swung an arm out and grabbed Sis's hair. She shrieked.

Before Sam or the colonel could move to rescue her, a shovel smashed down on the man's wrist and he dropped the girl. "Amon!" Roren growled. "Let her go and go fetch the buckets! Quick! Gar, get your tail back here and help me!"

Gar looked up at Sam and gave her hand a squeeze. "Get going, you. Papa'll be mad later, but you've got your chance."

"But..."

He flashed her a grin. "Aw, we'll be fine. Promise."

He scampered off, slipping once in the mud. His father caught him by the coat and steadied him, then went to work with his two neighbors to douse the fire.

"Over here!" Sis called. She held the horses reigns in her hands. Mud streaked her face and dress, but she was smiling in spite of it. "It worked, it worked!"

The colonel sank to a crouch in front of her and rested his hand on her head. "You sure you'll be okay?"

She gave a firm nod. "Papa won't let nobody hurt us."

Sam and the colonel exchanged looks, and then she helped him up into the saddle of the first horse. He grunted, but managed to stay upright. Sam took the reigns from Sis and hooked her foot through the stirrup, pulling herself up into the saddle.

Sis waved. "Tell Gran I said hi!"

"We will," Sam promised. _Be safe_, she added silently as the two wheeled the horses around and urged them on. Sam looked back once and saw Sis still watching them, the flames in the barn behind her outlining her in the dark.


	4. A Place Like Home

A/N: At long last, here it is--the next chapter! ::cue dramatic music:: I could give you all a bunch of excuses, but… I don't want to do that to you. So I'll settle for saying I'm sorry this has taken so long to get finished. I hate making you all wait so long. I'll try not to be such a slow writer in the future. x.O Also, this is un-betaed and I haven't gone over it very well. So if there's any glaring errors, I'll apologize ahead of time.

Oh, and one more note: This is like the fifth version of this chapter. It's taken on a life of it's own, so even I don't know where it's going. It's not quite like I had planned, but what I had planned obviously wasn't working since I've been stuck for forever...

But I'll stop talking now so you can actually go read.

* * *

As it turned out, Gran was not the kind of woman you _found_. She was the kind of woman who found _you_.

Sam and the colonel had rode through the night, through the endless drizzle and cold, until the first light of dawn appeared on the horizon ahead of them. The horses were tired, and the colonel had fallen asleep in the saddle. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping Sam awake, and that was wearing thin. Not only was she nodding off, but several times she had glimpsed motion in her peripheral, only to turn and find there was nothing there.

_You're losing it, Carter._

She needed rest; they both did. But without any gear and with their injuries, the two didn't stand a chance if Boridan caught up to them.

So when she saw a dark shape outlined against a straggly bunch of determined trees growing on a dry slope, her weary mind identified it as an old stump jutting up from the grass. Nothing dangerous, and certainly nothing alive.

And even when it moved, it took Sam a moment to realize that it actually _was_ moving. She blinked and started to reach for the zat that wasn't there. It pulled itself upright, moving away from the trees as it shuffled closer. The horses stopped on their own, calm and unafraid. They seemed pleased to see…whatever it was.

To be honest, it still looked like a tree. Or a smaller version of an Ent from the _Lord of the Rings _movies. The creature's head was covered in a mass of spiky twigs, vines, and moss, which partially obscured a face covered in peeling bark. It was short and stocky, with thick limbs, smaller branches reaching out at odd angles every which way.

_You've lost it, Carter._

When it spoke, it sounded nothing like…a tree. It was a woman's voice, seasoned and rich but not quite the kind of voice someone might expect from a talking tree. Sam supposed it was time for a mental evaluation when the possibility of a talking tree did not seem so insane.

"You've made it," the tree said.

Sam stared.

"Great ancestors, a woman with your talent and all you can do is gawk?" The woman—at least Sam assumed it was a female?—shook her head, sending clumps of moss flying. "But I suppose you cannot be blamed. You have come a long ways, after all."

She finally managed to get her voice working again. "…Gran?"

"Mm-hm," Gran bobbed her head again, shuffling closer to the two. Her body began to waver and reform as she moved, losing the tree-ish-ness and molding into something more human. She was tall and well-built, with defined muscles that defied her mane of gray hair. Slight wrinkles gathered at the corners of her eyes and lips, but she still looked young. Her ears were long and pointed and bounced a little when she walked.

"You two did well," she crooned to the two horses, feeding each of them a small treat she produced from a pouch on a belt that hadn't been there when she was a…tree. _God, I _am _losing it._ For that matter, none of her clothes had been there.

_Maybe her species has the ability to shapeshift… Or it could be a chameleon effect, _Sam mused. The clothes were similar in color to the bark, and she had been standing near trees. Once she moved far enough away from the trees, her disguise faded.

"Don't think too much," Gran advised without looking up at Sam. "We should get you two to safety. Quickly, they are coming."

Sam frowned, twisting in the saddle to look back the way they'd come.

"Don't look now. Looking will solve nothing." She patted the neck of Sam's horse and said something Sam couldn't quite catch. The horse snorted and stamped a hoof in the moist soil. "These two will take you to my home. You'll be safe there. I will ensure you aren't followed."

She didn't know if they could trust Gran. For all Sam knew, the woman could be one of Boridan's men, or someone else who intended to sell Sam and Colonel O'Neill off to the highest bidder. But she had no time to worry. The horses started off abruptly with no urging, angling along the slope. The colonel was still unconscious, but the horses moved with a gentle grace Sam hadn't noticed before. Neither of them were in danger of falling off.

They didn't ride far. Apparently they hadn't been far from Gran's home to begin with. But as far as homes went, it was nothing like Sam had ever seen before.

As they rounded the hill, they came to a dead end where a solid rock wall blocked their way. The horses didn't stop, didn't even slow, but kept on going.

They rode through the wall.

By the time Sam had recovered from the shock, they had reached the center of an underground cavern. The horses turned in a slow circle, allowing Sam a chance to get a good look at where they were. The ceiling wasn't far above her head; damp roots hanging from above brushed her hair. Several paths branched off from the main room, which was lined by all shapes and sizes of barrels and woven containers.

It was…bizarre, to say the least.

A young man emerged from one of the halls to opposite the rock wall they had entered through. He lifted a hand in greeting and approached slowly. "You can get down now. Gran's been expecting you for a while now."

Sam nodded, glancing over once at Colonel O'Neill, then swung down from the saddle. Her tired and cramped muscles complained at the movement, but she ignored them.

"I'll help you get him someplace more comfortable," the stranger volunteered.

Sam moved between him and the colonel. "Thank you, but I can manage."

He studied her wordlessly, then nodded after a moment, waving a hand towards Colonel O'Neill.

She took a step back, then turned and reached up to rest her hand on the colonel's knee. "Colonel? Colonel, wake up." His head bobbed a little, but he made no sign that he'd heard her. Her fingers tightened around his kneecap. "Jack?"

"Mm," he grunted. His head came up slowly and he blinked blearily. "Car…Carter?"

"Sorry, Sir. Think you can move a little?"

He stared down at the horse's mane, his brows furrowed as if he was trying to remember what he was doing on a _horse_. "Carter?"

"It's okay, Colonel. You've lost a lot of blood, but you're going to be all right."

He nodded slowly. "Carter?"

She patted his knee. "I'm here, Sir."

"I have to pee."

She stared for a moment, then closed her eyes and dropped her head, biting her lip to conceal a smile. _He's going to be just fine._

"I have a room ready for the two of you," the young man said from just over her shoulder.

She started, turning quicker than she should have. A wave of dizziness slapped her, but she managed to stay upright. Exhaustion and blood loss were getting to her, and she couldn't live on adrenaline.

He winced apologetically. "It's okay, you can trust us. Gran does this all the time. I'll help your friend. You should go get some rest before you collapse and I have to carry you too."

There was nothing in his eyes or voice that hinted at deception. Both he and Gran seemed to be sincere…despite all the weirdness. "Thank you."

He nodded. "Gran will be back soon to see to your injuries. In the meantime, I've prepared some food and drink. It's waiting for you in there." He pointed down a hall to the left. "Go rest. You _are_ safe here," he promised. "Now, please, go before I must become any more redundant in my assurances."

"Thank you," Sam said again.

She watched him help the colonel down from the saddle. Something inside her felt guilty for leaving the colonel with a stranger, but he was conscious, and while he had lost a lot of blood, he did seem to know what was going on around him.

"You called him Colonel?"

Sam nodded. "Colonel Jack O'Neill."

He looked thoughtful. "And you?"

"Major Samantha Carter."

"Ah, of course. Well, I'm…just Rhapak. You could call me Rhapak the Tunnel Keeper or Rhapak the… Well, you can call me whatever suits you."

Sam let herself smile for real this time. "Rhapak is fine. You can call me Sam."

Rhapak looked down at the colonel. "And…?"

"Jack," Colonel O'Neill coughed. "Who still has a pressing matter that is becoming something of a concern."

"Of course," Rhapak nodded. "Enough from me, then. Let's go."

Sam found the room Rhapak had mentioned at the end of the short hall. The whole place smelled like rich soil and some kind of herbs, but it wasn't an unpleasant sort of smell. It was somewhat comforting, in fact. The room was small, but not the kind of small that makes you feel claustrophobic. More the comfy, curl up in a chair with a blanket and a mug of hot cider kind of small. Two hollowed out nooks in the walls held mattresses. The blankets were pulled back, and a rectangular table that sat between them had two wooden mugs of water and a bowl of what looked like crackers and cheese, though the crackers were larger than what came out of boxes in grocery stores.

Sam sat on the bed on the right, the mattress crackling under her weight. It was probably straw or something similar, though it didn't feel too hard. _I'll just lay back for a few seconds. I should eat something, and I can't afford to let my guard down yet. _

By the time Rahpak brought Jack back, she was out cold.

* * *

Daniel pushed away from his desk before he lost control and tore his notes to shreds. Four symbols. He didn't know what the sequence was, let alone the other two symbols. The search teams had found nothing, their allies had heard nothing, and there had been no word from Sam and Jack. Nothing. And all he could do was sit and stare at notes and those four damned symbols.

He jerked his glasses off and pressed his fingers to his eyes. _I should be out there with Teal'c looking for them. We shouldn't have left them behind._

"I guess I don't need to ask how it's going."

Daniel looked up. Even without his glasses, he could easily recognize the man standing in the doorway. "Jacob. Hi."

The older man nodded and stepped further into the room. His eyes fell to the notes on Daniel's desk, fixed on the scrawled pictures of the symbols they did know. "Not much to go on."

"No. It's not," Daniel sighed. He reached for his glasses and slid them back on his face.

"Does the Tok'ra know anything more yet?"

Jacob shook his head. "No, but our operatives are working on it. So far all we know is we can rule out the Goa'uld."

That was pretty much obvious anyway. It didn't look like the Tok'ra were going to be much help this time. Which would be why Jacob was here on his own. Daniel stared at the symbols on his desk. "Any ideas?"

"I say we find those bastards and bring my daughter and Jack back."

Daniel nodded. "Good idea."

"I know somebody who might help, but we're going to have to find him first."

Daniel sat up straighter. "Who?"

Jacob smiled. "An old friend of yours, actually. Let's just hope he cooperates. George already gave the go-ahead, so as soon as Teal'c gets back, we're good to go."


End file.
